No Happy Endings
by Nighteyes27
Summary: Nightcrawler/Cyclops - strong R, weak NC-17 for everything under the sun


Title: No Happy Endings (Ult-X)

Rating: R for semi-explicit m/m and f/f intense imagery, semi-explicit m/f sex, adult themes and language.

A/N: Set about 4 years after the "Return to Weapon X" storyline concludes.

Disclaimer: No one in here belongs to me, the X-Men are the property of Marvel Comics. No copyright infringement intended, I'm making no money off of this.

Small continuity note: Everything is as usually after the Weapon X storyline concludes, but Nightcrawler, after going back home, returns to America and joins the X-Men. Ages are what I figure they would be four years from the current time.

       My name is Kurt Wagner, codenamed Nightcrawler.

       I am German, born and raised in the Bavarian Alps. At the age of twelve I was taken away and used by the Weapon X program, part of SHIELD. There I nearly died multiple times and was tortured, molested and raped.

       That does sound more than a bit melodramatic, I admit. Not your normal story for an eighteen-year-old who attends a school with a fancy name such as "Xavier's School for Gifted Children." But I'm not exactly normal.

       It might be the blue fur (also causing me to disappear in shadows), it might be the three digits on each hand and foot. It may be the pointy ears, prehensile tail, or the fact that when I teleport (disappear and reappear instantaneously in another location), I leave a residue of brimstone smell and a lightshow, retaining some of that light so that my eyes are permanently glowing yellow, and my mouth, too, when it's open. My superhuman agility, sharp fangs and gymnastic abilities aren't exactly common, either. Plus, the fact that I'm gay makes me twice over different. This was all pointed out helpfully to me by my former fellow churchgoers. Before they chased me with stakes and torches and called down Weapon X on me.

       In case you hadn't guessed it, I'm a mutant. Member of the X-Men, a "superhero" crime-fighting, human and mutant peacenik group, which actually numbers quite a few these days. But my story picks up one day in June....

****************************

       I was first into the kitchen that morning. Pretty standard, actually; I'm the only one who is actually awake at seven in the morning, so the others depend on me to make their coffee.

       First in is Professor Xavier. He wheels himself in, dressed immaculately as always, in khakis and a nice green vest over a white shirt.

       Good morning, Nightcrawler, he greets me mentally. He's rather strict; wants us to use codenames to avoid looking "human." But isn't that what we're fighting for?

       "Good morning, Professor," I respond back easily. "It is not my turn to cook breakfast-I believe it's Bobby's-but I can offer you some coffee. Straight black?" I ask, although I don't really need to hear the confirmation.

       Xavier smiles at me. "Of course."

       Something about the most powerful mutant mind on the planet smiling at me makes me just a little nervous, so I greeted the next arrival with perhaps more gusto than I would otherwise.

       Bobby Drake, the Iceman, stumbled in. He was very obviously half asleep (boy never can get up on time, he's late to every early-morning training session).

       "The thing that sucks about being the Iceman is that a cold shower never wakes me up in the morning," he grumbles. Deal. He has _no_ idea how much of a pain having fur is.

        He had got on a pair of loose jeans and a white T-shirt under a half-unbuttoned button-down shirt (we got out of the practice of wearing uniforms on under our civvies years ago; our updated teach gives us a perimeter line God himself would have trouble coming through unmolested and undetected). He also had a bit of stubble on his chin, though that was a constant source of amusement to the team; at nineteen, he's still unable to grow a proper beard or mustache (although this was an arena where no one could beat me). But in many ways, this reflects just...him. In his four years here, he hasn't really changed. He's still a prankster, the "kid" of the team. Our much-needed comic relief, but also, at times, our conscience. Saves us from descending too much into the animals which Weapon X tried to label us as. He crossed the room to the fridge, took out a bacon packet as well as toast and eggs, and started cooking at the stove.

       "Morning," Emma Frost, twenty and full of pride and grace, sailed in, a polar opposite to Bobby. She's dressed sharply in a white leather jacket, white blouse and tight white leather pants. The woman's got a fetish for anything white and leather. I overheard Xavier telling Cyclops that it's her way of coping with the abuse she suffered at the abominable "mental institution" that she was confined in from the ages of fifteen to seventeen, before we rescued her three years ago-a year after the fall of Weapon X. Her way of reminding herself that she is past the abuse-sexual, physical, emotional, and mental-that she went through. As a joke, we had christened her with the codename "White Queen," and it had stuck. White because it was her color, Queen because she was cold and arrogant to most people outside of the X-Men-and even us, most of the time still.

       Where she was had actually been an offshoot of Weapon X. It was worse, from all accounts. Let's put it this way: I was never raped, experimented on, tortured just to see how far my limits were.

       At least, not as badly as she was (Selene's very infrequent visits and my attempts at escape notwithstanding). Weapon X needed my skills as a teleporter more than they needed the research from me; they needed me sane and relatively healthy. She was a telepath, considered too dangerous out in the field (unlike Marvel Girl, she had nothing to lose by disobeying orders and everything to gain by dying). As such, she didn't have the protection Jean, and to a lesser extent Ororo, had.

       Bobby perked up as Emma entered, unconsciously running a hand through his hair. It's no secret that he's got feelings for her; on the other hand, most of the team feels she plays with him, thinks toying with his affections is fun. But I know differently.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

       I heard someone crying in the garden, and was puzzled. Who would be out here at-I checked my watch-three in the morning? I was, but it was a routine sojourn for me: I had refused to let Jean, Emma and Xavier "help" with my memories of Weapon X (like hell I'm letting Xavier, at least, a free trip 'round my mind to modify what he wants. At least now I have marginal shields, probably be able to at least alert someone to his tampering before he pounded my mind to so much slush). As a result, sleepless nights two or three out of seven nights a week are my norm.

       Knowing whoever it was probably didn't want my company, I nevertheless crept along the hedge soundlessly and looked out. Emma Frost was collapsed on the front of a small fountain, crying.

       "Emma?" I approached her gingerly. She started, obviously not having heard my arrival.

       "Kurt?"

       "I know it's not my business, fraulein, but I've always been a good listener." I tried to make myself open but not pushy; I guess it worked.

       She sniffed. "I...." she began, and broke off again. Finally she just hugged me, tight, and I hugged her back, trying to provide reassurance.

       Finally, she straightened, and I let her go without a word.

       "I was...abused at the Weapon X facility," she began haltingly. "I think you know how much."

       I winced. My own tenure had been the stuff of nightmares (Selene's clandestine nighttime visits still made me piss in my bed occasionally); I couldn't imagine what hers had been like.

       "Yes, fraulein, I can imagine."

       "Well, for a long time I thought I'd never love," she said. A passionless recital, but she was close to losing her trademarked composure. "I thought they'd burned to capability out of me." New tears welled in her eyes. "I tried to harden my heart to everyone...I thought I'd succeeded, but now...I've met someone, Kurt. And I like him. A lot. And I want to be with him very much...but...."

       "You're scared?" I ventured gently. She nodded. "Can you tell me who?"

       Her mouth opened and moved silently. Finally, she thought to me, Bobby. 

       I grinned slightly. "I might have known. But you must know he cares much for you," I said, becoming more serious. "He'd never hurt you or pressure you."

       "Oh, I know," she hastened to assure me. "It's just...I can feel how much he feels for me. And it scares me...because I think I'm beginning to feel as much for him. But if it comes down to the wire...I have horrible memories from Weapon X," she said, switching topics abruptly. I nodded, but didn't change the subject, even though I could see where she was going, and my heart ached for her. But I thought she needed to have it out.

       "I was sexually molested and raped so many times I lost count," she stated matter-of-factly. Her lips twitched into a bitter grin. "Just one more way of breaking the 'dangerous telepath's spirit,'" she spat. She intrigued me. At once calm and emotional.

       "And I'm afraid...if Bobby and I ever do...pair...that it'll be like that. Or it'll bring back memories of Weapon X...and whatever we had would die, or be-sullied. And I can't...I won't...I don't think I could live with that."

       "This may sound callous and cold, Emma, but have you ever considered…pairing… with someone before Bobby, to see what happens?" I suggested gently.

       She looked at me scornfully. "Of course," she said, regaining some of her attitude. "But you prefer men, Scott and Logan are wrapped up eternally in Jean, Hank has Ororo, Bobby's out for obvious reasons, and Piotr...." she shivered. "His looks and build remind me too much of the guards at Weapon X.

       "Not that he'd do anything to hurt me, I know," she quickly went on. "It's just...the situation we're describing is the last time I need to suddenly not be able to deal and go hysterical, and I _would_ prefer male companionship," she laughed, ruling out a possibility of a threesome with our resident lesbian couple.

       "Actually, Kurt, it's too bad you're gay-you'd be my first choice," she said thoughtfully.

       I hesitated over my next words. How to phrase it so that she wouldn't feel I was pressuring her or coming on to her?

       "Emma...it is as you said, I prefer men. But...in this situation...I think I would be willing to oblige you."

       Hope sprang into her eyes. "Are you saying...?" she trailed off.

       "Yes, Emma, I am," I grinned. Then I leaned in. "For two reasons. First, what red-blooded male would turn you down?" I laughed. Then I sobered.

       "Secondly...I have my own nightmares about 'female companionship' at Weapon X," I added, letting darkness enter my eyes. She started, surprised, and narrowed her eyes. "What I went through was not nearly as bad as what you did, but it was enough to haunt my dreams all the same," I ended. Thinking of the few times that Selene had been bored and decided to come play with me, I shivered.

       {Selene biting my manhood viciously, thrusting herself on me, piercing and burning my nipples, spanking me and my shaft with a hard rod, inviting the guards in when they'd violate me and hurt me shoving themselves in…no, don't think of that.}

       "I feel it is...appropriate that we exorcise our demons together." Demons. What a funny word for me to use. I remember my priest, holding a torch and pitchfork, cross dangling around his neck, calling me a demon....

       She stared at me, and I felt her establish a light mental rapport with me. We each delved deep enough into the other to feel the other's certainty over what we were doing, as well as the knowledge that if, at any time, if one or the other of us needed to stop, the other would let them. It went unspoken, of course, that we would never talk lightly of this, and even then only to a lover.

       I extended my hand to her, my fur inky black in the night, and she took it, her skin milk-white against my darkness. We were a well-matched pair, I a few inches taller, muscular and angular, she lithe and curvaceous, darkness and light.

       I teleported us to my room gently, trying to cause Emma the least amount of discomfort possible. She swayed for a moment, then regained her feet.

       "We can go to your room if you wish...." I trailed off.

       "No, here is fine," she said quietly. Turning to me, she captured my lips with her mouth.

       I picked her up, and as she wrapped her legs around my waist, I felt the first stirrings of my erection. I carried her over to the bed, dropped her gently, and flopped down beside her. She immediately resumed the top position, and kissed me again.

       I let her be on top. I'm sure she still has nightmares about being trapped by large male figures. And since this night was for her more than me, I wanted her to be comfortable. So our position suited me fine.

       We kissed and grew acquainted with each other's bodies for some time, before she peeled off my beater. Running her hands through the long, silky fur on my chest, I reciprocated and took her shirt off.

       We kissed again, tongues dueling. I was easily aroused, but I also took the time to make sure she was properly prepared as well as slip on a condom. Then I entered her and, as we started to move to a rhythm older than time, I felt her (through our link) bring forth her memories of the Weapon X time and banish them, and I did the same. And as we spiraled into satiation together I knew we had both done ourselves a favor tonight.

       Afterwards, as we lay side by side, Emma rolled to her side and dressed efficiently after fifteen or so minutes of quiet peace. My arms bent at the elbow and my hands cradling my head, I watched her dress. Finally, I rose, and pulled on some boxers.

       "I'll teleport you to your room," I offered. "Less chance of being caught, and awkward talk."

       She nodded, and I gingerly grasped her and teleported back, again trying to gentle my teleportation.

       As she stepped away from me, she fleetingly caressed my face.

       "You should tell him how you feel," she said quietly.

       I stopped dead. My jaw clenched.

       "You and I are more alike than we realize, Kurt," she said, a small smile flitting across her face.

       I turned to her and kissed her fiercely.

       "Then it's too bad that this night is all we'll have," I whispered roughly.

       I stepped away and teleported away to my room, to sit, sleepless, until dawn.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

       "Morning," I responded neutrally back, echoed by Bobby, and I nodded to Emma fractionally as she sat at the table across from Bobby. Things had been...more and less comfortable between us since that night. More because we had reached an understanding, less because, despite our intentions, we were still slightly awkward with each other. I saw Bobby glance at us, and his eyes narrow.

       Don't give him the wrong idea, I sent across the light rapport that all the team members share with team telepaths. My private connection with Emma was slightly stronger than mine with the other telepaths, or Emma's with anyone else, due to our shared night. I think he's beginning to suspect us of having a "thing." As in a permanent thing, I informed her.

       Her head immediately swiveled towards Bobby and she frowned.

       "Bobby, can I talk to you outside for a moment?" she immediately requested. He looked up and frowned.

       "Sure, Em," he responded. Then he looked around. "Kurt...?" he trailed off.

       I nodded. "Sure. I'll try not to burn the bacon this time, either," I grinned.

       Bobby rolled his eyes. "Spare us," he mock-moaned, and followed Emma outside.

       I spent a few minutes deep in concentration trying not to burn the bacon, eggs and keep track of the toast. When I next looked up, Kitty Pryde and Rachel Summers had joined us.

       I grinned. Kitty was sitting on Rachel's right, feeding Rachel; Ray's head tilted up and back in a purely sensuous display. They were such exhibitionists.

       Trying to ignore the sudden discomfort because of my tight jeans, I laughed silently.

       Rachel, at eighteen, was about as different from her older half-brother as you could get. She was a free spirit, loose and wild. Her shoulder-length fire-red hair and emerald eyes made her look more related to Jean, but she really was Cyclops' half-sister (we think on his father's side). She had come to the Mansion two and a half years ago, at fifteen, because she had managed to track down Cyclops, her only living relative, through an adoption agency, and trace him to here. She was immediately plunged into a mission in which we needed a third field telepath, and her fire-bright uniform and temper earned her the codename Phoenix.

       Kitty, on the other hand, is now seventeen, having come to us two years ago. Her family situation was awful, and we were glad to welcome her. I suspect abuse, but she's never talked about it and I don't pry. As well as her powers being a great asset to the team, she and Rachel immediately hit it off, easily linking mentally with a surprisingly strong connection. Six months later, they began a "fling" that's now turned into a lasting, loving relationship and a full mental rapport. She's called Shadowcat because, as she once joked, being insubstantial meant living in the shadows-though there was a darkness in her eyes when she said so. And apparently she likes cats. Go figure.

       Bobby and Emma, rejoining us, both seemed very self-satisfied.

       "If the two of you are done...." Emma trailed off. Her smug attitude, and Bobby's beaming grin, aroused my suspicions. As Bobby shot a smirk my way, my suspicions strengthened (seeing as I'm openly gay, I have absolutely no idea where the ridiculous idea he had of us two being in competition came from, but he's never been the smartest X-Man around).

       Yes, I did ask him out, Emma confirmed privately to me. Her general air of happiness was so unlike her I did a double take.

       And it feels great, and I think I've got you to thank for it, Kurt, she added. Thank you, from both of us. 

       "Achem," and Henry and Ororo strolled in, followed by Piotr.

       Beast (Henry McCoy), blue and furry, was a striking contrast to Storm (Ororo Munroe) with her classic features, chocolate skin, piercing light blue eyes and shock-white hair. But they were handfast, laughing gently. I swear, even at twenty-one and twenty respectively (relatively young to have found their "soulmate"), they are the poster children for love between different looking people (but, hey, Kitty and Ray are even younger, and they're the most in-love people I've ever seen). I mean, come one, forget skin color-these two have fur color between them. Just fur, come to think of it. But, in contrast to their happiness, Colossus (Piotr Rasputin) appeared to be in a foul mood.

       "Problems, Piotr?" I asked lightly as I placed everyone's bacon and toast before them.

       The twenty-one-year-old grimaced. "None, Kurt, but I am finding myself unable to paint recently. It's just...I sit for hours but nothing comes of it."

       I smirked. "Be alone with Kitty and Rachel for five hours, mein freund. I'm sure you'll be suitably inspired-OW!"

       Ray had just telekinetically pulled my tail. "Watch it, furball," she said, with an offhand lazy arrogance that was so *her*. Kitty just laughed silently.

       "Well done, Rachel," Jean Grey (Marvel Girl, twenty) drawled, coming in, followed closely by Wolverine (Logan-god only knows how old the bugger is) and Cyclops (Scott Summers, twenty-one).

       I swallowed hard. Cyclops was looking very disheveled today, and his jeans rode low on his hips. His button-down shirt was open, allowing a glimpse at a well-muscled chest and a six pack, and he had stubble below his visor and mussed hair above it.

       I sighed in my mind. Since I had accepted the fact that Scott loved Jean, I had settled for being a close friend, though it still hurt some days, like today.

       Oh, God, I could remember our Weapon X mission together. Teleporting us out gently, him ending on top of me, causing me to harden. The care and concern in his eyes. Our first meeting....

            {Him writhing in pleasure as I entered him, so slick and tight, fellatio at dusk in the garden, his warm cock in my mouth…damndamndamn snap you shields up boy!}

       Watch it, furball, Emma quoted, smirking silently. I covered you, but you get any more of a hard on and I think you'll force open the zipper on your jeans. 

       "Kurt, pass me the-"

       BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!

       "The Blackbird in five!" Cyclops yelled, leaping to his feet with the rest of us.

       For me, it's easier than for everyone else-a quick BAMF! and I was in my room, ripping my T-shirt off. Stepping carelessly out of boxers, staring in consternation at my huge member-I was sure everyone would be able to see that I was excited. Cursing my luck, I began to open my closet door and select one of my unis.

       Just some help, darling, Emma sent, along with an accompaniment of memories of our night together. Within seconds I had jerked off into my closet, hot semen splashing on half of my uniforms. Snatching one that hadn't been soiled, I pulled it on hastily, sending back, Thank you, _darling_, but NEVER DO THAT AGAIN! 

       I heard only a slight mental snigger.

       Four and a half minutes later, I was strapped into the Blackbird as it took off, watching Professor X's figure recede below us.

       I stalked down the Hellfire Club corridor in an awful mood. Emma was behind me, holding guns and knives galore. I was outfitted much the same.

       On the jet journey to San Francisco (which was where the New York-based Hellfire Club was currently working), Cyclops had given us an efficient briefing and game plan. 

       _Go in, rescue the President's other daughter_-Jean, Cyclops and Colossus. Cyclops to be able to tell us, via our headsets when we'd gotten the girl, and direct most of out mission from that. Jean, to try and locate the girl, and to keep us in touch if our headsets failed. Colossus, just for raw brute strength and physicality, something that Cyclops and Jean both lacked in terms of mutant powers. 

       _Go into the facilities and tear them down-steal any useful technology and wreck the rest_-Shadowcat, Phoenix and Beast. Beast and Shadowcat because they were the most technological-savvy of the X-Men, Rachel to watch over them (Kitty especially-the two refused to be separated on missions, and with their rapport, it made tactical sense). 

       _Hunt down the leaders_-Emma and I. Our skills (finding and going to and detecting ambushes) were best suited to doing so, and Cyclops felt that only two people should be acting as assassins. We were colder and more ruthless than anyone else.    

       _Plant explosives in strategic locations to wreck the actual building-_Wolverine, Storm and Iceman. Though the only group without a full-fledged telepath, Wolverine was in sync enough (with Jean at least) to send and receive telepathic messages. Wolverine's building knowledge was needed to know where to plant the explosives, and Iceman and Storm's powers would be deadly in close quarters.

       Of course, it had been a lucky break that Phoenix, Shadowcat and Beast had somehow managed to find, in the Club, a device that stopped active mutant powers from happening-a mutant suppressor, it had been christened. Cyclops had decided that it would be a bigger advantage to have our enemies stripped of powers than a disadvantage to be stripped of powers ourselves-we were all amply armed. This, however, put Emma and I at the biggest disadvantage of all the teams-no way to verify identities, locate ambushes, or leave in a hurry if we had to. Of course, high on adrenaline, neither of us were thinking of this at the moment.

       I glanced into a room and saw-Sebastian Shaw? He was facedown on the ground, his back regularly rising and falling. I nudged Emma and she nodded. As one, we moved into the room. As Sebastian turned, Emma put a cocked gun to his head.

       High on adrenaline and already off-balance from our deactivated mutant powers, we never even considered that it might be a trap. I don't know why we didn't think about it; we'd drilled enough for it, you'd think our training would kick in and we'd go on autopilot. After what happened, neither of us would forget it again, but Cyclops still ran drills like this for months afterwards.

       Suddenly, the door burst in. Selene-_damn_-and Shinobi Shaw, smiling evilly.

       "Emma! Do it!" I snarled at my friend, who was holding a gun to Sebastian Shaw's head. She pulled the trigger and he- flickered. A hologram?

       Suddenly, I felt a searing pain through my right shoulder. I looked. Blood poured from a small hole. Looking up, I saw Selene reloading her pistol and Shinobi Shaw pointing one at Emma.

       Damn. Bullet, I thought, rather disconnected, even as Selene looked up and purred, "Nice to see you again, pet."

       SHIT! I heard a faint telepathic yell-Phoenix, I think. Rachel, -strong enough to work through the suppressors? That, or more likely, they turned it off. My brain was working overtime here, as all this flickered through my mind in a second. Sensing what had happened, she more or less howled at Emma and I, Our powers work again. Get outta there! 

       Emma! I snapped. No time like the present. Grabbing the White Queen, I teleported us to the Blackbird, hearing her cry out in pain moments before we disappeared. Oh, god, so much blood, I saw as we winked out of existence....

       {Blood, pouring from my shoulder, red, viscous, flowing from Emma's leg, staining the white perfection of her uniform….}

       I sat down in the medibed, losing consciousness from blood loss and the shock of teleportation. Emma, swooning from my rough teleport, blood loss and the shock of having a bullet pass clean through the fleshy part of her thigh, had enough presence of mind to send out a telepathic message to everyone before passing out on the Blackbird's floor. I was drifting in and out, and blacked out then.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

       "We have to keep him warm," Rachel hissed.

       Muzzy, I opened my eyes. Emma was beside me (still out cold), and she felt like a firebrand next to me. I was shivering rapidly.

       "How?" Kitty hissed back.

       "There's no need to whisper, you two," I muttered faintly. "All I need to warm me up is seeing you two flirting." I meant it as a joke, but Kitty gave me a rather offended look.

       Rachel, on the other hand, gave me a speculative look. Suddenly, my body seized. I choked and couldn't breathe. I was aware of frantic shouts above me, but I closed my eyes and drifted. NO! I heard a telepathic cry. Suddenly, Rachel was in my mind, seeing my life as I saw hers, as she pulled me back from the brink of death. It was and incredibly intimate experience, and I saw far more of both Kitty and Rachel than I had ever wanted to. I believe I also impinged on the telepathic link Rachel and Kitty share.

       {Fingers in slick damp heat, muted cries of passion, red and chestnut hair twining, a sweet mouth on mine, whispered words of endearment, familiar smelling and tasting sweat…what the hell?}

       Suffice it to say, some of the images did warm me up, almost uncomfortably so. The blood rush to...certain parts of my anatomy got the blood flowing, and it certainly made it hot in the Blackbird, even as Rachel and I came back to ourselves. She lessened the tight bond, but I was aware of a slightly stronger mental rapport than what we'd previously shared.

       It'll probably go away in a few days, Rachel said dryly.

       I became aware, then, of Kitty's concentrated glare at Rachel, and Rachel's contrite expression. She reached out to take hold of Kitty's hand, but Kitty pulled away and stormed off.

       "Rachel..." I managed to hack out. "Erase the memories, if it would make Kitty more comfortable."

       She looked at me and grinned gently. "And I'll erase my memories of you Kurt," she said softly. "Too much sharing and not enough privacy."

       Nodding back, too weak to even speak, I thought, Rachel, about Emma and I... 

       Don't worry, Kurt, your secret is safe with me. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

       When I next woke, Cyclops was beside me, holding my hand, dozing in a chair beside the bed. My strong link with Rachel felt gone, or all but, returned to its usual intangibility.

       "Kurt?" he asked anxiously. "How do you feel?"

       Trying to ignore the pleasure his presence brought me, I grinned faintly. "Never better, Scott," I said dryly.

       "God," he said, sounding all choked up, "I thought I lost you." Surprised, I saw that tears were rolling from beneath his visor. Shifting slightly, I sat up and hugged him to my chest. God, it was so nice to have him in my arms, I prayed that my body wouldn't _fully_ wake up. Jonesing for someone in a hospital gown is *not* a good thing, I thought sourly to myself.

       Eventually, Cyclops composed himself. "I'm not ready to lose someone else I care about," he said quietly.

       Before I could stop myself, I tipped his head up to meet mine. "You'll never lose me," I said fiercely, mouth bare inches from his. "I'm like a bad penny. I always come back. Because I love you, Scott."

       I really don't know why I said it. Maybe it was a Freudian slip. Maybe I was so sick of hiding it, and I'd come so close to dying, it didn't matter.

       Then he moved and, before I knew it, his mouth was on mine in a sweet, tender kiss, the best I'd ever gotten.

       Then it was gone, and dumbly, I watched him walk out.

****************

       My first day out of bed, I was bound and determined to find Cyclops (surprise, surprise, leader-boy hadn't visited me. Probably thought he was pressuring me with his rank. Idiot.). However, at the mental summons of Professor Xavier, I manfully swallowed my sigh and retreated to the gardens, where I actually found the entire X-Men team assembled.

       "SURPRISE!" they bellowed. Grinning and laughing we all proceeded to have a good time. Kitty and Rachel slipped out several times, coming back flushed and happy. Determined to block out my memories of Rachel's memories, I concentrated on what this meant for them. Apparently, they had resolved their differences. Rachel gave me a thumbs up to tell me I was right in my assumption.

       I noticed Emma and Bobby laughing together, then my brow furrowed as Emma led Bobby away momentarily, a mask of seriousness settling over her features.

       I don't know what she said to him, but at least he retained the presence of mind to wait until after the party to accost me.

       Scott, Emma, Bobby and I were cleaning up when Jean wheeled Professor Xavier up the path to the mansion.

       Bobby threw down the chair he was holding. "You fucking shit, you slept with her!"

       Emma's head jerked around as, disbelieving, her mouth dropped. My jaw clenched. "Excuse me?" I demanded, supernaturally calm, as Cyclops took a step backwards from me.

       "Damn you, you _slept_ with her! You _knew_ I loved her and you slept with her!" I have never seen Bobby that angry, I saw the sunlight refract off of his head as he iced up.

       "Dammit Bobby, I told you that because I wanted you to know you could trust me _completely_, you moron! And you _betray_ my trust like _this_? I did it _for_ you! I _love_ you, you stupid ass!" Emma snapped, near tears. Then, again, that cold, cold mask slipped onto her features. He turned to her, confused, and bit his lip. 

       Emma just watched him coldly. "I've changed my mind. I will not be seeing you. Goodbye, Mr. Drake." And with that, she walked out.

       Bobby de-iced. I saw the frantic knowledge as the wheels spun in his head and her realized _exactly_ what he'd done. I'd never seen him lose control like that-my sleeping with Emma must've really burned him up. I suspect he had dreams of riding in like Emma's white knight and making everything better. Stupid boy. There are no fairy-tale endings.

       Throwing me one last, hate-filled glare, he sped after her, and a distant part of my mind wondered if he could make it up to her (if she'd allow him to) and, Jesus, how were we ever supposed to function together as a team?

       Then Scott and I were left alone in that horrible silence. The kind of silence that is so awkward it kills. Because Scott believed I'd made my choice and, with his past, it's not hard to understand his believing that I had told him I loved him to sleep with him.

        It still hurt that he believed I'd sink to something so low.

       "You swore you loved me, Kurt," he said in a pain-filled voice. "And you kissed me gently. But this…this doesn't sound like love to me."

       "I do love you, Scott," I said quietly, and I saw him flinch and his face closed to me. And damn I could see his point but he was also being an ass and, God, why was this hurting as much as it was?

       Then he turned on his heel, and left, and I suppose I could've gone after him but I didn't. Because I felt so weak, I surrendered to the darkness now clawing at the edges of my vision. I must've overextended myself; Jean warned my about that. But I've never been one to play by the rules much. Damn, didn't being gay _and_ a mutant prove that?

       But as I fell backwards into darkness, I didn't care about all that. I suppose I knew subconsciously that someday this would happen, if I slept with Emma, that Scott or Bobby would find out and turn against us but, hey, I've been told before that I look for excuses to push people away. To hurt them before they hurt me, or we hurt each other so bad we can't stand it.

       Because, if there's one thing I've learned, it's that there are no happy endings.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Author's End Notes: 

1. I really wanted to make this story have a happy ending. I really did. But I couldn't force it to; if there's any happy ending at all, it will be in a sequel (which I really am not planning on writing).

2. I know I took liberties with Kurt's powers here, but they're slightly different from the regular MU's in Ultimate canon (and not fully explained), and even in the regular MU, Kurt's passengers do experience discomfort. 

3. Kurt shines though here with flashes of his gentlemanly swashbuckler self through the darkness that is his life. I wanted to make him a tarnished hero, as I said, glimpses of his "normal" self's traits coming through. I hope I succeeded. Actually, I tried to do that for everyone-they're themselves in different circumstances, they could've turned out this way, but I did try to keep some of their more admirable traits intact.

4. I know it might be tedious, reading all of the background on all of the characters, but I needed to establish the background of the characters, and what they're like, both so I could more fully imagine my story and explore Kurt a bit more.

5. I know it's cliche, but please read and review (constructive criticism please). This is probably my longest story to date (clocking in circa 5796 words and 10 pages or so), my first Ult-X fic, and I'm quite proud of it. It was a bitch to write, though-took me a long time to make it 'feel' right.


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